User blog comment:Biggren/The Northern March/@comment-3135907-20130319214357/@comment-3135907-20130328202220

To their good luck, they discover a vermin camp close by.

Dingetail the stoat and his gang number twelve in all, thieves and cut-throats to the last. Their camp, to the northwest of Redwall, is a motley affair of two ragged tents and a lean-to, under which is placed a large oaken chair for their leader. The stoat is busy honing the blade of his cutlass when the recruiting party comes nigh. "Lookit that, Hooktooth!" says Bizzen, barely able to hide his giddiness. The lean rat draws his dagger. "Won't Slaye be pleased, heehee!"